Darkness is My Light
by TALEWG
Summary: Hermione finds someone evil who treats her better than someone good. Hermione/Draco. This is an abandoned WIP that will never be completed. Sorry, readers.
1. Prolouge

1.1 Darkness is My Light  
  
By: Melanie M.  
  
The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
LadyChangLian@aol.com  
  
Disclaimer: (Melanie # 6): Not mine not paidnot pretty…. Oh wait, that doesn't belong in a disclaimer no matter how true it is!….Oh well! My disclaimer. My floppy, my cold, my orange juice, my idea, my LOTR CD, my brain, my laptop, my house (my damn parents' technically), my "life", my…. Ummm, my imagination! That's it! My e-mail is due to Test Tubes, Dragon Spawn, and Demi Gods (TTDSDG), a saga fanfic of Gundam Wing by other people. Wufei's daughter's name is Lian. I encourage any GW fans to read it!  
  
Pairing: Hermione/Draco  
  
Muses of the Story: Lord of the Shadows the Muse: Muse of all that is disturbing (and really shouldn't be like that or OOC) and evil! -And- Fang the Muse: Muse of all death and pain! -And- Windfeather the Muse: Muse of all that is angty! -And- Black Rose the Muse: Muse of all that I screwed up but ends up ok!  
  
WARNING!!!!! Bashing of people you won't think of. Surprises are in store. The title is odd, but it will make sense at the end. Unless you are an idiot! Surprises for me, too. I'm making this up as I go, so I don't know how it turns out.  
  
2 This is my first chapter fic, so I'll try to post fastly, cause I know how annoying it is….  
  
Rating-R for mature themes and forced sex (more or less rape), swearing, violence, and angst. I don't care how old you are; I'm not going to be in High School for another half year. It doesn't matter on age, but maturity, so read if you wish.  
  
/Thoughts/  
  
3 FF.net Penname: TALEWG  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Prologue  
  
*Smack*  
  
I breathe out a small sigh of relief as his fist connects with the wall next to me. The hole he has caused is dripping with his blood. He smiles at his handiwork, then smiles at me. To say I am scared is an understatement. I don't know what he is capable of anymore. He had been so kind, but he is different now.  
  
He licks the blood off of his knuckles, then plants his mouth firmly over mine. I can taste his blood on my lips, it's not the first time, and it won't be the last. I know how this goes, give in and feel pleasure, refuse and feel pain. He plays this game with me all the time. If only someone could help me.  
  
I have been a powerful witch all my life, and very brave as well; however, I am too scared to tell anyone. I never wore shorts while at Hogwarts, so it is not odd for me to always wear pants now. Now they are there to cover the bruises.  
  
His hands roam down my body, I won't refuse him this, I know what happens if I do. He smiles as we part lips; he knows I will give in, as always. He unbuttons his pants and mine. He picks me up and throws me onto our bed. As soon as I land, he is there, on top of me. He pins me down with his legs and pulls my shirt off. I can't struggle, my body knows it will only make things worse.  
  
My mind screams to stop him, but my bruised body knows worse fates. My body always wins.  
  
He forces my legs apart and drives into me. My eyes water as he laughs. This is his pleasure: my pain. Tears start down my cheeks; he hits me across the face. Crying is not responding the way he wants, so he fixes it.  
  
I pull him down to me; he smiles. I begin to kiss his neck, so he can't see my face. He moans my name, "Hermione…." It disgusts me to hear him say it. He drives harder, so I keep my face in his neck. The pain escapes me, and I feel pleasure. However the pain in my heart makes this hard. I love him for one fleeting moment as the finale of our act drives feelings away.  
  
I lay there numb, and then in a rush the pain is back. He wraps a blanket around us and falls asleep. I look at him blankly before the tears rush back to my eyes.  
  
/ Damn you Harry…. /  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
HAHAHAHAHA! Bet ya didn't see that one coming! Review-I've never gotten any! Flame-I'm bored! ^_^;;;;  
  
Come on; tell me what you think! 


	2. Chapter 1

1.1 Darkness is My Light  
  
2 By: Melanie  
  
3 The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
4 Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
5  
  
6 Note: Oh wow! How much do I suck? It's taken me sooooo long to write chapter 1 (technically 2). So sorry about that! ^_^ This is revised!!!! I posted it and then my friend Flame Tigress told me it sucked. And it did! She's always right. So thanks for putting my ass back in gear.  
  
7  
  
8 Pairing: Draco/Hermione-obviously-Harry/Hermione.  
  
9  
  
10 Oh! I would like to say I don't hate Harry. I just needed the spot filled and I wanted the filler to be Harry. Besides, it is easier. You see Harry is pretty smart, but Ron is quite clueless. If it had been Ron, harry probably would have already found out, but Ron is a bit slow so…You get it.  
  
11  
  
12 Thanks for the reviews! I was sooooo happy! Even from a close friend, trying to be funny? Naw, I doubt it. Well, I can't believed you liked it, but here's more…  
  
13 Rated R  
  
14  
  
15 /thoughts/  
  
16  
  
17 FF.net penname: TALEWG (For now. We are getting DSL soon, so I will have a new SN therefore a new Penname {so my parents can't read my crap!}.)  
  
18  
  
* * * * *  
  
19 What happened: Hermione is abused by her lover, as she had been for quite a looooong while, who turns out to be none other than Harry!  
  
* * * *  
  
20  
  
21 Chapter 1  
  
22  
  
"Are you ready yet?"  
  
A gruff voice, full of impatience. A rush of feet, hurried with fear. Slow breaths, hopes low, voices forced, emotions tied.  
  
"Sorry, I was fixing my hair, Harry. You know how I hate to go out with my hair a mess." A grunt. "Well, shall we go? There is shopping to do," Hermione said with a perfect, if not dishonest, smile.  
  
The two each took some floo powder and were off to Diagon Alley to shop. And smile every step of the way.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Oh Harry, look at that! It's a new collection of M. J. Jerl's books! Do you mind if I go look at them?" Hermione squealed in breathless, cheerful excitement.  
  
"Ten minutes. Then I'll meet you at the tavern." Simple, and to the point – that was Harry, unfortunately.  
  
Hermione went straight into Flourish and Blotts and turned left. She knew where everything was in the store, even though she hadn't been there in quite a while. She came to the second to last row of books and looked up. This was her favorite section. The sign, "The Empowerment of Witches", hung above Hermione by at least ten feet. "Someday, someday I will take your advice," she whispered to the shelf.  
  
Hermione continued towards the M. J. Jerl display as fast as she could. She looked at the set of books, which included such titles as The Witches' Guide to Children, True or False: Theories of the Witching World, and I am a Witch, Deal With It: For Muggle Families Everywhere. Hermione picked up the set of ten books and made her way to the counter. As soon as she had paid for the books, she left.  
  
As she walked out of the store, Hermione smiled. Not a fake smile, it was a real smile, an I-just-bought-myself-and-early-birthday-present smile. Hermione began to jog back to the tavern; she didn't want to be late. As she came close to the tavern she rounded a corner with just a little too much speed.  
  
She connected with something solid, actually someone solid. She fell to the ground and dropped all of her books. She mumbled an apology before looking up. She stood up to come face to face with a blond-haired, gray- eyed Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Watch it, Granger! You haven't gotten a bit of grace since Hogwarts! Well, I guess being a clumsy fool fits you, now doesn't it?"  
  
"Shut up, Draco Malfoy!" she snapped turning red with indignant, defensive anger and humiliation. "You haven't gotten a bit of courtesy since you left Hogwarts – but I guess being an arrogant git fits you like a tailored glove."  
  
Draco sneered and he grabbed her wrist. "Ah yes, the clever little witch. Did you find that witty comeback in a book? Or perhaps you saw it a mindless Muggle movie, God forbid! Really, thinking you could outdo me is so preposterous, a rich Weasely seems more possible." Draco couldn't help but laugh at his own joke, and the color Hermione was turning was just priceless.  
  
"Hermione! Didn't I tell you ten minutes?" Harry's voice screeched from behind her. He stopped dead in his tracks at seeing Hermione and Draco together. "What is this?" Harry demanded; his eyes narrowed in suspicion.  
  
Draco saw it. Hermione swallowed hard then put on the biggest, brightest, fakest smile. But her eyes, her eyes showed fear. They showed terror. And with a monotone voice she replied, "I know, Harry. But I ran into Draco, literally, and now he won't let me go!"  
  
"Malfoy! You had better-"  
  
"-Good day, Granger. And do be careful from now on…" Draco interrupted, his tone deliberately icy to appease Harry – for Hermione's sake if nothing else. In a whisper only loud enough for her to hear he added, "I saw that." And with that he let go of her and turned to walk away. As Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the fireplace home, Hermione chanced a look back and there was Draco watching her. But not smiling.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As soon as Draco came through the fireplace there was a loud *thump*. "Oh clumsy me; you scared me Draco. I thought someone was breaking in. Oh, you're back early? I though you had a lot of shopping to do."  
  
"It can wait, Mother. I ran into someone today."  
  
"A friend?" Narcissa asked hopefully as she picked up the table she had knocked over.  
  
"Of course not! I ran into you."  
  
"Come again?" Narcissa asked as she pulled a chair up next to her son's.  
  
"Of course it wasn't you, but it was. She looks just like you…not in outward appearance, though. It's in her eyes."  
  
"Well, that came in loud and clear," Narcissa said sarcastically. "Oh yes, she is nothing like me, she looks nothing like me, but we have the exact same eyes, they show the same…Oh." Realization dawned on her face. "She looked like me, and whomever she was with looked like your father. Right?"  
  
"Exactly. It doesn't take a genius to figure out she is being treated as you…or I was. It's quite obvious, to one who knows what to look for, that she is terrified, and that she is being beaten. After all, I saw it in you everyday of my life, Mother. Until Lucius was killed, I saw that every time I looked in the mirror; it was everywhere."  
  
Falling silent, Draco took little notice when Narcissa put her hand on his. She did not ask whom it was that her son had chanced to meet in London; she simply let him dwell silently on his sorrowful memories. And there they sat, remembering painfully.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was ten days thereafter that Hermione chanced upon seeing Draco again. With Harry looking for a new wand, Hermione walked the streets of Diagon. Hermione sat outside the wand shop for twelve minutes before her head, with a left black eye (which she had not yet bothered to heal herself, and which she dared not have treated by a professional magical medic who would require their questions answered), popped in to tell Harry she was going across the street to use the café's bathroom. When she skipped across the street again, seeing Harry waiting and making a show of contentedness, she was thrown to the ground as someone fell onto her.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Harry came rushing over, enraged. Draco Malfoy got up and took Hermione's hand, helping her up as well. "Ah, I am a hypocrite, am I not?" he said gallantly. "I am the clumsy one now!" He smirked, and Hermione, in spite of herself, smiled as well, although she wasn't sure why. And then there was Harry.  
  
"Give her to me, Malfoy!" But Draco did not let go. Hermione turned to Draco; the determined flame in his eyes told her he had most certainly just sealed his fate. Hermione had seen Draco hateful before, but nothing like this.  
  
"Yes," Draco began wide-eyed and cynical, "I'll hand her over all right. Hand her over to be abused by you, is that it? Let me tell you, I don't like watching the past repeated." And there it was. Draco had a death wish all right, and for some reason, Hermione didn't like the fact.  
  
"What? I have never laid a finger on-"  
  
"Don't spout lies, Potter!" Draco spat acidly, unable to mask his fury with sarcasm.  
  
"Why you fucking-" Harry began, but Draco was suddenly gone. Harry stood stunned with rage. Malfoy had Apparated and taken Hermione with him!  
  
* * * * *  
  
* * * * *  
  
Dun dun duuu~uuun!!!  
  
Really all, I am very sorry, but I DO NOT WRITE FAST!!!! I have no time. And I took this down to revise it so it took longer. Stupid me not to send it through my reader first.  
  
And I'd like to say this was all me, Buuuuuuuut…it sure as hell wasn't! If Flame Tigress-(Wow, calling a friend by their penname is really annoying!)- Hadn't helped me, or rather corrected me, I would have died. GO READ HER STUFF!!! I don't think well when I am sick. Yes, that's right I just got a shot in the ass for strep throat! Grrrrrrr. 


	3. Chapter 2

Darkness is My Light  
  
By: Melanie  
  
The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
LadyChangLian@aol.com  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
  
  
  
  
Well I'm sitting here, and I should write, but I just can't seem to get going. I know exactly what happens next, but I am stuck, therefore I don't want to write. I hate it! So as the Ents say (^_^) I should get hasty. But I CAN'T!!!!!!!  
  
  
  
Notes: I don't hate Harry; his part in Draco/Hermione fics usually just annoys me.  
  
I noticed a couple of people reviewed along the lines of "more vigorous sex scenes" and "kissing scenes for Draco and Hermione". Think reasonably here, Hermione has suffered abuse and terror, why in the world would she all of a sudden jump into bed with someone? Well, duh, she wouldn't. This doesn't mean the two won't end up together, but there is little in the way of "sex right this instant!" That would make for a very thin and blatantly insensitive plot, exactly what bad stories are made of.  
  
Sorry for delays, I am a slow writer. But thanks to everyone who reviewed, it was overwhelming. I have yet to get a review from someone who disliked the story; it's all positive.  
  
Sorry for the numbers on the second chapter, I tried re-posting and deleting the story seven times, and no matter what, they wouldn't go away. Not sure why they're even there.  
  
Thoughts are in /these/  
  
FF.net Penname: TALEWG (for now)  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
All she had done was blinked, and then she was here. The question was, where here was; frankly Hermione wasn't sure of the answer. But when she looked up at Draco Malfoy, then at the wall behind him, then back at him, it was obvious; they were at his house. The walls perfectly matched the paintings, which completely matched his clothing's color and style. Which was, in Hermione's opinion, utterly sad.  
  
Draco seemed to notice what she saw and let go of her hand. He turned his back on her and began to walk away, his robes billowing out from his body. "Wait!"  
  
Draco turned to look at Hermione, "What?"  
  
"Why am I here, your house, what do I do now, and are you just going to leave me here?" She said in a bit of a panicked fear. She wasn't sure being locked up in Draco Malfoy's house was the safest thing. Then again, neither was being locked up in Harry's.  
  
"First of all, I saved you. I have lived through history enough; I didn't survive just to watch it repeated. Second, you will be safe here, because we won't hurt you here. Third, you can do whatever you want.within good judgement. Fourth, I am not leaving at all. Just going somewhere else in the manor. Do you have another string of questions to ask me?"  
  
Hermione scowled, "There is no need to be rude, especially when you brought me here against my will!"  
  
"I saved you."  
  
"Putting that aside, if you don't hurt me, I should be fine. What did you mean we? Don't you live alone?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I mean besides your servants and house elves."  
  
"I know."  
  
"-And their families."  
  
"I know that."  
  
"Well, then who lives here with you? It doesn't take a genius to look at this place and know that you aren't married. Besides I don't think you could land a girl, or a guy."  
  
"Oh, I'm hurt. That has shattered my fragile heart, and I shall never be the same again," Draco sarcastically shut Hermione up. "There is one other person in this house, besides you," he added as Hermione opened her mouth. "You can go anywhere in the house except the locked corridor on the second floor. I'll have the house elves make up a bed for you, other than that, you are free to do whatever you want."  
  
"How about if I apperate away from this place?" Hermione stated the question with defiance.  
  
"First of all, you don't know where you are, and that complicates things, now doesn't it? If you choose to use floo powder, since unlike apperation, you don't need to know where you are, I doubt you would want to go back to an abusing lover," Draco was practically yelling at the notion. Hermione figured that abuse affected him deeper than one would think. She opened her mouth to say something, but soon realized that she couldn't disagree with his last statement and quickly shut it again. Draco flexed and balled his hands several times before he could finally look back at Hermione. "I have something to take care of, if you want answers, I'll see you in the morning. Ask any elf or servant if you wish for something, and later, if you wish, Delia here will show you to your room," Draco pointed at the little girl sleeping on a couch. Hermione figured that she was family of a maid or worker, but it seemed she was totally happy at the Malfoy manor. She was dressed in a silk shirt and a matching blue satin skirt; the blanket she had was clean and embroidered, it seemed that even the servants were like a part of the family.  
  
Draco turned and again began to leave. He stopped at the door, however, and looked back. "However, I have a feeling you will be spending a lot of time in this room above all else." Then he was gone.  
  
Hermione suddenly realized that Draco had not said who else actually lived in the house. /Interesting./  
  
She shook off whatever shock she still had. /Harry can't find me here. And so far Malfoy has been a-somewhat-gentleman. I don't think this will be all that bad./ Hermione's thoughts drifted in and out of topic. She then remembered what Draco had only moments ago said: I have a feeling you will be spending a lot of time in this room.  
  
"Now why did he say that?" she muttered to herself. However, she soon answered her question when she turned around. The room was a wall-to-wall, floor to twelve-foot ceiling, corner to corner library. The first image that surfaced within her numbed mind was of the old movie Beauty and the Beast. Then, the rational part of her mind stated that the room must have been at least twice as big as the one from the movie, and four times as big as the library at Hogwarts. She was dazed, like she had died and gone to heaven, which she hoped wasn't the case. This was better than any movie, because this library held magic, and nothing but.  
  
"Not too bad, not at all."  
  
  
  
Thanks to my Beta reader, Flame Tigress, who gave me the very encouraging words: "This chapter wasn't as desperately in need of fixing as Chapter 1 (no offense  
  
meant; you realize that it needed a bit of beta-reading.)" And also made me very happy by stating that she hated me for getting 53 reviews. Seriously people, her writing is soooo much better than mine. The human dictionary is what she is; not mention, her ability for writing emotions, mainly pain, is absolutely fabulous! Better than I could hope to do, so go read her stuff! You won't regret it! 


	4. Chapter 3

1.1 Darkness is My Light  
  
2 By: Melanie  
  
3 The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
4  
  
5 Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters. Beatlejuice by far doesn't belong to me, unless you count the version I taped off of TV; I love that movie! Grimm Tales by well, Grimm, aren't mine, but I have been reading far too many of them in the past few days. If I read this chapter and then go and read something by Grimm, I see I've adapted the writing style of Old English.  
  
Notes:  
  
1. I want to thank Catwoman for correcting my naïve stupidity. "I just wanna correct you, S&M means "sadomasochism" and NOT sex and murder as you stated." I made my own assumptions, and sorry for the mistake. And this is still not S&M, though Harry would very much be the sadist, but Hermione is definitely not a masochist.  
  
God, I can just hear Rachel laughing at me for this.  
  
Delia is by no means becoming a Mary-Sue or even a remotely main character, in fact I never knew that she existed, this chapter just kinda wrote itself on its own. Don't know where it came from, but I like the idea.  
  
3. Ok, I'm not feeling good, so what do I do? Duh, turn on Aerosmith and sit at the computer to write. But it's not helping, so I hope this doesn't suck.  
  
Ok (yes I say that a lot), I'm put in Percy W. and Characters: All in the FF.net search, and Woah! am I disgusted. You wouldn't believe how many PWP stories there about Percy and one or two or three of his brothers together. Eeeeeew! You people are sick!  
  
(I've decided not to change my penname when I change my e-mail for the DSL. Well, it depends. I may open up an entirely different Penname for other stories, so my mom can't find them. But my e-mail will be changing within a week from today, not when it gets posted, god knows when. Hell, by the time I'm done with this, I'll have the new screen name already and will end up deleting this whole message. I have totally earned the nickname Spaz.)  
  
These are supposed to be short chapter, I just like it that way.  
  
Pairing: Hermione/Draco  
  
FF.net Penname: TALEWG  
  
5.1 Chapter 3  
  
  
  
When Delia woke up the next morning, still in the library with a book of fairy tales in her hand, she was quite surprised to see someone else asleep in a chair. The young woman was very pretty but her sleep seemed troubled. Delia imagined that she couldn't have been older than Master Draco was, but not much younger either. Feeling a bit flustered at finding that Master Draco hadn't woken her up to meet their guest, Delia decided to get her some warm tea.  
  
As she made her way to the kitchen, Delia stopped at a hallway mirror to fix her skirt. The mirror smiled at her and her reflection mouthed "perfect," which she responded to with a "Thanks." She continued down the hall until she came to an open door on her left. The room was dark except for a small desk lamp on the other end of the room. Her older cousin May almost blended in with the black walls except for her hair, which was a mix of browns and her pale skin. Making her way into the room, Delia was careful to sidestep all hazardous books on magic and Grimm tales that littered the floor.  
  
"Hey, Lydia!" Delia couldn't help but smile when her cousin started.  
  
"Stop calling me that. I look nothing like Winona Ryder from Beatlejuice, so stop calling me that!"  
  
"Whatever, Lydia. So what Grimm tale are you reading now?" Delia peered over her cousin's shoulder when the latter gave no sign of answering the question. "Ah, "Brother and Sister", that's a good one; it's about the witch who turns the brother into the roe, isn't it?" May simply nodded. "One of these days Lydia, I am going to knock down this wall and get some sunlight in here. Not to mention get you some colored clothes; then you'll be 'May' again." But May just kept reading so Delia took her leave and headed towards the kitchen once more.  
  
  
  
When Delia returned to the library Hermione was just stirring out of sleep. Delia set the tea down next to a blinking Hermione and sat back on the couch to finish her book of fairy tales. Still curious, Delia peered over her book. Hermione was looking at the tea somewhat doubtfully; she was probably deciding if it was safe to drink. "Don't worry, I just brought that in myself."  
  
Hermione gave a tired laugh. "Oh, good; you never know in this house."  
  
"For you, I guess not. Master Draco has told me all about his days at Hogwarts, and all the things he regrets."  
  
"Oh, and are you headed for Hogwarts soon?"  
  
"Oh, no. I'm a…what'd he call it? A Muggle, I think it was."  
  
"Draco Malfoy houses Muggles?" Hermione said, utterly astonished. "Well, there's something new, all right!"  
  
The girl frowned, which creased her forehead, making her look as if she was in deep thought. "Actually, my father owed a his life to Master Draco after a fire in our apartment building. He saved us and Father begged him for a place to stay; so we work. But it's ok, it's pretty nice here."  
  
Hermione smiled. "You are very talkative, not at all shy. How old are you?"  
  
The girl counted out on her fingers and happily announced "Seven."  
  
Hermione had been ready to talk to this girl more when she noticed the girl's face. Delia looked utterly terrified. Hermione turned to see what had scared her, and spotted a fight between two very unhappy looking books. She took out her wand and cast a blue web of light at the quarreling texts, causing them to spring apart.  
  
"They do that sometimes," Delia whispered in apprehensive awe. "Once a book bit me, but then Master Draco stuck a sword through it. But all the time I was really scared." Delia backed up to the door and turned to her book. "Come on," she whispered, and the fairy tale book jumped up after her. The two walked down the hall and around the corner, leaving Hermione with more questions than answers.  
  
Totally got to thank my Beta Reader, Flame Tigress, for her input and stuff. Though I'm happy this chapter took far less beta-ing then chapter 1 did. Now that was horribly written. 


	5. Chapter 4

1.1 Darkness is My Light  
  
2 By: Melanie  
  
3 The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
4  
  
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
** Special Note** Must go back on previous comment on incest, (You wouldn't believe how many PWP stories there about Percy and one or two or three of his brothers together. Eeeeeew! You people are sick!) because, being the sick little fuck I am, I read these stories. In fact I went searching for them; I had to understand them. And while the thought of practicing it with my family is nauseating, I can not say truthfully that I think these people should be condemned. It is a matter of opinion, besides, if you are a closed-minded fuck, you have obviously not thought of what I am writing in the close future. You shall hate me surely…  
  
Notes:  
  
Harry is not my filler. There is plenty of reason for him to be in this role; he's not just convenient.  
  
There will be future chapters dealing with the why-s and how-s of this background.  
  
No offense is meant to Aries, in fact I am one, and being headstrong and stubborn are two of my best qualities. I know her birthday is not in April, but I damn well felt like it!  
  
The music by Vivaldi: I have actually never heard it, but I asked my Dad for a certain musical tune for this and he suggested it.  
  
Thanks to everyone that has actually stuck around for this, since I take so long.  
  
My beta told me to call this a vignette, I guess you can, it's short, but I chose not to.  
  
Fff.net Penname: TALEWG  
  
  
  
Draco Malfoy had always been there when Hermione hadn't wanted him to be; now that she wanted to find him, he was no where to be found. Granted, the manor was huge, but still, he had said he'd be there. So the only option Hermione had was to find him.  
  
She left the library with a purpose, but it didn't take too long before she was quite lost. When she thought the Malfoy Manor was huge, she hadn't thought it was this huge! She gave up looking for Draco by the first ten minutes. Instead, she opted for exploring. After all, Malfoy had said she could, and even if he didn't she would have. People had always called her headstrong and stubborn; she blamed it on being an Aries.  
  
She stopped; she could have sworn she'd heard something. Something sweet. She tried to still her breathing, just to hear, but the sound never came back to her ears. Ignoring it, she walked to the end of the hall. There were huge back drapes that went to the top of the wall, twenty feet up. Curiously, Hermione reached for the velvet, trying to find an opening. She slipped her hands in between the heave pieces of fabric and pulled. The drapes opened a crack to the right with her arm. The sun's rays trickled in to the room, lighting the walls with a golden magnificence.  
  
She smiled; finally, some light in the Malfoy Manor. She felt renewed by the light and let the child inside her indulge. She firmly wrapped the fabric firmly in her left hand and ran. She ran until the right curtain was almost all the way open. The room glowed in the daylight, and the images of rainbows streaked the walls. And for once in a very, very long time she actually laughed out loud.  
  
Hermione stopped; there it was again. That sound, that joy, that feeling. She timidly placed a hand on the stair railing and looked up. The stairs went on into the dark, up and up and up. /Curiosity killed the cat…But if that was true, I wouldn't have a pet anymore./ Hermione took a deep breath in, held it, then exhaled slowly. Deep breathing was for pregnant women and panic-ridden victims, or so she had been told. Whatever it was for, inhaling deeply and slowly helped her gather up her Gryffindor courage. She reached her hand up and grasped the railing; soon her body followed her hand as she began to ascend the staircase.  
  
Her heart beat wildly; she had always been afraid of what the dark held, especially here. She kept her footing slow and deliberate, as to not loose her resolve. She passed from the stairs to the dimly lit hallway. The darkness wrapped itself around her, and she felt as though she was slowly being swallowed whole. She passed doors of oak and silver every so often, and stopped only long enough to peak into each room. Each room held spare furniture and some storage items. She passed three bathrooms, a sitting room, a workshop, a collectibles room full of masks and art, and several other barren rooms, as well.  
  
But she continued for sometime, up another stairwell, then another, and took to wandering the fourth floor, before she was rewarded with hearing the sound again. This time, she was quite close enough to make it out to be a very soft trickle of music that floated down the hallway. Classical, if she wasn't mistaken.  
  
As she walked further down the hallway, she was rewarded with the knowledge of being correct. Though, she had a feeling she would not find Draco in the room, but perhaps the other person in the house. Which may not be so bad, in her opinion.  
  
  
  
"The Movement for Spring" by Vivaldi*; it sounded so familiar to Hermione, though she was sure it was only the second or third time she had heard it. But none-the-less, she heard it, going over again and again. She had been so confident of herself just moments ago, but now she stood in front of the door with classical music drifting and light streaming from under the door, completely frozen with a silent fear.  
  
What would be said of her if people knew she went snooping in someone's house, in Malfoy's house? What would be said of her of being in Malfoy's house? She rather not know the answer, to either question.  
  
She slowly twisted the doorknob, and to her own horror, it was unlocked. The door opened revealing bright sunlight and fresh plants. Flowers of every kind were in the room; it was almost like a Muggle greenhouse. There standing, or more accurately dancing, in the middle of the room was a woman Hermione had never met. With beautiful brown curls, and deep purple robes, the woman turned to Hermione in the doorway. Her bright green eyes sparkled and her rouge lips formed into a beautiful, unearthly smile.  
  
"I was beginning to think you'd never make it up here to see me."  
  
"The Movement for Spring" is a song. I have never heard it, but my Dad suggested it when I asked for something, so I hope it fits…  
  
  
  
Alrighty, there it is, took damn long enough, too. Sorry about that. Please review.  
  
  
  
Thanks to my beta reader Flame Tigress. Grrrr…yelled at me for being mean and ignorant for once. 


	6. Chapter 5

Darkness is My Light  
  
By: Melanie  
  
The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
Notes:  
  
Thanks to everyone that has actually stuck around for this. I really lost the passion for this story; let's see if this can make me love it again. I have a twist! It's short I know-sorry, but I now know where to go from here!  
  
Fff.net Penname: TALEWG  
  
  
  
Hermione looked at the woman in the room quizzically. Did she just say that she was waiting for her? "Waiting for me?"  
  
"Oh yes, Dear. You've been here quite some time yet."  
  
"I've only been here one day."  
  
The woman began to move about the room, tending to various plants, avoiding her contradiction. "Do come in from that doorway, Dear. It makes it quite cold for my tropical flowers," she said pointing to a corner of the room full of multicolored plants.  
  
With nothing else to do, Hermione walked into the room. She quietly shut the door behind her. The woman went through the large room, and Hermione temporarily lost sight of her behind a rather large flower tree. The scent of flowers soon began to overwhelm her, and Hermione tried to find a spot in the room that smelled milder than the one she was in.  
  
She spotted two chairs and a table in the center of the room. She sat down and soon the woman was back, a tea tray in hand. A cup was set down in front of Hermione; she never touched it.  
  
"You're such a pretty little thing," the woman said quite absently. A long pause. "Narcissa is the name. Sorry, I just realized I hadn't said it yet."  
  
Hermione just blinked awkwardly at her smile. "Hermione," she answered slowly, cautiously.  
  
"Beautiful name darling, really, really beautiful. So how do you find the house?" Narcissa asked waving at the room vaguely.  
  
"Um.big, I guess." Hermione cocked her head to the side to really look at the woman. She was quite beautiful: long, blond hair, which was turning white; pale skin; perfect complexion; and flawless smile. But what irked Hermione the most were her deep green eyes that seemed to show no emotion. They seemed like crystal.  
  
The woman's head lolled a bit from side to side, but the smile never left her face. Hermione wondered how anyone could smile so perfectly that long. Something was definitely wrong with the woman. With nothing to do in the thick silence, Hermione began to look at the flowers in the room.  
  
Several unnaturally silent minutes later, there was a sharp knock at the door. A moment later, the door opened. A teenaged girl dressed in all black came in. She looked like something out of a horror movie, pale and thin.  
  
"Lady Narcissa, there has been a summon for you." Narcissa stood up with her cup of tea, and headed towards the voice. "Lady Narcissa!" the girl almost screamed in alarm as she rushed to the woman. "What are you doing? You know you aren't supposed to rely on the magic for long periods of time!"  
  
"Oh Darling, don't worry about me; I'm fine," Narcissa explained. She turned back to Hermione, "It was very nice to meet you, Dear, but we'll have to finish our conversation later."  
  
"Sure." Hermione stood up and stepped to her left to where Narcissa had been looking. Cautiously, as to not offend her hostess - a manner lesson her mother had drilled into her as a child - she held up a hand in front of Narcissa's face.  
  
"You smell like the library, Dear; just so you know." She held the cup out to Hermione who took it and set it on the table. The servant girl brought Narcissa an elastic leash that had a tiny ball of light on the other end. The ball gave a little tug and Narcissa followed it out of the door and down the hall.  
  
The girl turned around and faced Hermione at last. "I guess you figured it out; The Lady Malfoy - though she hates that name - well, she's blind." The girl gave a wistful smile before turning and following after Narcissa Malfoy.  
  
Hermione let the newly discovered piece of information settle into her head. "The.Lady Malfoy?" she thought for a moment. "Oh, Draco's mother!"  
  
  
  
Ahaha!!!!!! I have found passion again! If you all hate me now, oh well! I owed it to myself to finish this. Thanks to my beautiful beta reader-as always. Flame Tigress, you are my savior. (As well as grammar confuser!) 


	7. Chapter 6

Darkness is My Light  
  
By: Melanie  
  
The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
Notes: I know that Hermione is not born anywhere remotely near April, I already mentioned this! But in this fic she is because I damn well feel like it!!! Well, no one is reading this anymore, but oh well. I can not write this any faster so if you want it all, read it once it is done.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 6  
  
  
  
Hermione left the room and headed back towards the staircase which she had earlier ascended. When she reached the hall, she looked back at the room which held Narcissa's garden just a little forlornly. Unsurprisingly, the music had simply stopped when she had left the room and firmly shut the door.  
  
She descended the staircases until she reached the main floor again. The window was still opened, which for some reason surprised her, letting the ever-fleeting sunlight filter in. She stopped for a moment to look out at the English countryside. And, as she was used to, she noticed that a light rain had begun to fall to the ground. Depressing, to say the least.  
  
She turned as the clock chimed four in the afternoon. So late already? She wandered back to the library to the sound of the rain hitting the window. When she got there, she saw a young man of about fourteen or fifteen. His hair, blue and red, was a perfect beacon of his arrogant teenage ways.  
  
His finger grazed the spines of all the books he passed along the far wall. His somewhat out-of-place snobbish manner seemed to radiate from his stiff posture. He stopped abruptly and turned towards her. "It's rude to stare," he said intensely, disgust creeping into his voice, but still quietly enough to not yell.  
  
She just stood there. He continued to stare back at her, and she almost expected energy to crackle and spill forth from his dull grey eyes. They did not remain like this for very long, however. Soon the object of Hermione's earlier search entered the giant room. Hermione broke eye contact with the boy to watch Draco, who did not register her presence outwardly.  
  
He walked over to the boy at the bookshelf, who put up fists to fight. Draco ignored the boy and simply walked through him. The boy lost all will at this point and dropped his arms. A hand grabbed his, which soon became connected to a girl who, Hermione swore, had appeared out of the air. The two took their leave through the far door, feet never touching the ground.  
  
Hermione waited until the ghosts were gone to look at Draco again. He was already looking at her. "We need to talk." She left no room for arguments.  
  
"I agree." Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. "Although the library is not my idea of private in this house, but if you insist." He made for a chair.  
  
"I don't mind the where, as long as it is now. I have been looking for you for a long time now."  
  
"Oh? I didn't realize I was that special." Cocky. He began towards the east door, expecting her to follow.  
  
"You're not, let me assure you. Although, my search was not fruitless. Your mother is a lovely woman. Bit odd, though. Still lovely." She expected this to shock him, but he simply continued gracefully through the corridor. He always had been very good at keeping his secrets close.  
  
They continued silently through the hallway and Hermione slowed every so often to look at the décor. "I would not linger here if I were you," Draco warned casually. She made to ask why as she tried to catch up to his fast stride, but soon lost reason to. She gasped; blood was slowly flowing from the cracks in the ceiling down the walls. "That happens from time to time," he explained nonchalantly. "My mother refuses to leave the north wing of the house, with good reason. The blood is just plain terrible to remove from clothing."  
  
At that comment, Hermione, unconsciously, grabbed at the fabric so that the hem of her skirt was at least a few inches off the floor. She kept close to Draco who seemed to have forgotten about the blood that was coming towards him. "Why does this just 'happen from time to time?'" she inquired.  
  
"Well, just like death never truly goes away, the blood of innocents does not either."  
  
"And just how many innocents have died here? There seems to be enough ghosts and blood here as it is."  
  
"Truthfully? I have no idea. Hundreds, I would say, yet that number seems a bit low.My father would roll over in his grave - if he had one," he added to himself, "if I did not honor his 'great work,' as he called it."  
  
"Was he insane?" Hermione wasn't sure where the question had come from or what had possessed her to ask it.  
  
"Insane? Well, yes. But he was mad, too. And there is a huge difference."  
  
"I fail to see it."  
  
"Insanity is repeating the same thing time after time and expecting new results. An insane person has the ambitions, but no way of meeting them. A madman, on the other hand, is cunning and devious. Though he is not always sure of what to do or what his motives may be, he knows exactly how to meet others' ends. Combine these, and you have a most terrifying creature indeed. People would call him a monster. I just called him 'father'."  
  
Hermione realized that in each moment of superior knowledge that her once hated schoolmate shared, he was also allowing her a deeper look into his life.  
  
He stopped with no notice, and Hermione had to keep great balance to avoid falling on him. That was how all of this started after all, and she wanted some things answered before they *started* anything else. He opened a door to their left, which led off into another short hallway. The end of the hallway opened up into a rather large room with several windows from floor to ceiling. But what caught Hermione's attention most was the room's occupants.  
  
There were thousands of ghosts talking amongst themselves. One of them spotted the two standing in the doorway and let up a yell. "Oh, so the old solid one is back! Came for more, young master?" Several others joined in the friendly bantering.  
  
A young woman in her early twenties, or who *had* been in her early twenties anyway, came up and grabbed for Hermione's hand. "Nice to meet you at last, young lady. We were waiting for a new one for years now! Thought the master had lost it all after the last one."  
  
"That is quite enough, Melissa," Draco said to the ghost, "she is not 'the next one,' so why don't you torment someone else?"  
  
"I'm hurt, Draco. You know I don't torture just *anyone*!" she broke into gales of high-pitched laughter as she flew to the other end of the hall. Many ghosts met her in the air to ask about the girl with Draco. "Not the next one, he says! He lies! He lies!" she began chanting with many other young dead women joining her.  
  
Still, amidst their teasing, Hermione got the sense that they truly cared for Draco, and vice versa. The ghosts respectfully parted for them to walk by. Several men asked her name, to which she gave them. They began to tell everyone they saw of the young Hermione Granger and her marvelous voice and smile. Murmurs of the two covered the hall. "How lucky he must be; how lucky is she," many of the older ghosts exclaimed quietly.  
  
"Is this your idea of privacy?" Hermione whispered angrily at Draco. He did not answer her. Instead her led her to the far wall and opened a door for her. She stepped through cautiously to find herself on a small patio lined with marble. There were two chairs made of a fine gold finish and a table of silver. The rain was long gone, and the overhang still dripped from the showers. He offered her a seat and took the other.  
  
"We do need to talk, don't we?"  
  
"Yes, Malfoy, we do."  
  
"Well, start by calling me Draco if you will, Hermione; I have long since grown out of impersonalizing people."  
  
"Alright, *Draco*, let's talk," she said with a bit more force than she had meant.  
  
"OK, where would you like to start?" Hermione honestly had no idea, so she simply sat there. And all was silent.  
  
~*~  
  
Lahahaha! Let's get on with this then! 


	8. Chapter 7

Darkness is My Light  
  
By: Melanie  
  
The Annoying Little Evil Writer Girl  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Previous disclaimer, on Prologue, applies to all chapters.  
  
Notes: *Again, this took a long time; I'm very sorry. *Here is a site I found very useful:  
  
http://www.redrosepress.co.uk/britain.htm It's a guide to Britain for ignorant American writers. While, I have never considered myself ignorant, and I did look up much of this stuff, I was surprised to find many things I didn't know.  
  
Other helpful sites for different ideas are:  
  
http://www.crimelibrary.com Beware this is graphic.  
  
http://www.sff.net/People/LisaRC/into2.htm A site to help with writer's block.  
  
http://www.quoteland.com Quotes for all occasions.  
  
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Chapter 7  
  
  
  
Ron Weasely was looking forward to his lunch break. He had been having a perfectly normal day, well as normal as his days were, creating the Ministry's secret weapons. He was currently trying to find his left shoe, which had been lost sometime in during the last explosion in his testing lab.  
  
He let out a yelp of satisfaction when he spotted it pasted to the ceiling. He had a feeling that this exploding pendant was going to be a real moneymaker. The Ministry had been heaping demands on him for weapons that would cause a lot of damage. Not like he minded the deadlines; as far as he was concerned, he had the best job in existence.  
  
Yet, the demands were getting heavy and he had been forced to approach his twin brothers for ideas. He had spent all of twelve minutes with them before he had more ideas than he could remember. But this pendant, this one was his idea. It was also exactly what the Ministry wanted: something small, unnoticeable, and would cause a lot of damage. This pendant was small and simple, but it sent out a magical blast capable of destroying everything with in a one-mile radius. He had even reached The Ministry's only requirement, that it wouldn't kill anyone. It had only taken three tries to reach this goal. And his back would feel his toils in the morning; being a thread away from death twice in four hours was quite enough to result in taking the rest of the day off. But he knew he wouldn't.  
  
He clicked the light switch on his desk. The mirror on the far wall cleared up to show eight science interns and the Minister's advisor watching the experiment. He stood up straight, his clothes ruined but intact, except for his one shoe, and bowed. His audience exploded into applause. He grinned. This was definitely an invention to be proud of.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mirélla and Ron had gone out to lunch to celebrate. Ron wasn't exactly sure when he and his lab assistant had begun to do this going-places- together thing. All he knew was that he liked it. She gestured to the waiter for a bottle of Champagne. Ron quirked an eyebrow at her innocent expression; Mirélla never thought it was too early for alcohol. Not that Ron minded.  
  
The waiter brought two glasses and the bottle with their lunch. Mirélla toasted to him and their glasses met. Ron smiled to her shyly over his glass rim, and her gaze never left his.  
  
After their flirtatious moment, the two delved into everyday conversation, about things like work, family, and friends. Ron almost laughed at how naïve Mirélla was when she asked if the invention would result in a raise or a promotion. The girl was smart, but she wasn't so great at politics.  
  
After lunch, Ron threw down for the bill and the two walked the four blocks back to the office. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened, but when they reached the building, he was aware of her hand leaving his. Suddenly his hand felt cold, though his ears burned.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The happy report that Ron's idea was a success was short-lived. He and Mirélla had simply picked up the next idea in the inbox and continued with work as usual. He closed the lab at half past midnight, some four hours after the rest of the staff had left.  
  
He had become something like a workaholic in a way. He took weekends and vacations, and sometimes even half days; yet, he never left until the other staff was long gone. Some days he worked straight through the night until the first secretary came in at eight. Some days, he simply fell asleep at his desk while poring over his reports. He had begun to understand why Percy was always working late. He too hated leaving reports half-done.  
  
He finally apparated to his flat downtown and fell onto his bed for seven hours of sleep that were blissfully littered with dreams of dates to come with Mirélla.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ron woke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had the whole week. He even chose to apparate at a coffee shop before heading into work today. He ordered a Chai tea and wake-up mints.  
  
He got to work at eight and thirty-two seconds according to the clock. Mirélla greeted him with a hug. She told him that he had a visitor in his office.  
  
He went to go forward, but stopped. Mirélla looked at him from under a raised eyebrow. He smiled slightly as a blush crept up his cheeks. Before he could talk himself out of it, it took a leap of faith and leaned forward, giving her just the briefest touch of lips. When he pulled away from her, he was bright red. But she simply smiled shyly with the lightest tint of pink gracing her cheeks. "Dinner on Friday?"  
  
He smiled widely at her, feeling like he was fifteen again. "Absolutely." And he kissed her again before almost tripping his way to his private office.  
  
When he stepped inside his office, his words of regular greeting, which were poised on his lips, disappeared and were replaced by a wide smile. His guest turned to him, smiling as well, with a familiar greeting.  
  
"Hullo Ron."  
  
~*~  
  
Note: Thanks to my Beta-reader, Flame Tigress, who, even though she could not correct it (so any bad grammar or spelling, let me know), gave me the positive feedback I need her for. 


	9. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8  
  
Draco sighed. Hermione had always been inclined to share her emotional feelings.with her friends. And he was definitely not one of those. Or hadn't been. Who knows what he'd be after this. Not like he cared whether he was or wasn't something remotely like to a friend to Hermione. Of course not.  
  
"Shall I begin?" Hermione looked up, startled, but did not speak. Her eyes widened a fraction, and Draco had the feeling that she was preparing herself to literally absorb the conversation. "When I was four, my father gave me a stuffed dragon, which I named Tolletanensis. My father never cared about Tolletanensis, because he was a very quiet pet. When I turned five, my father took Tolletanensis and threw him out, because I was far too old for imaginary friends.  
  
"When I was six, my mother told me that father was an alcoholic. I wasn't sure what an alcoholic was, so I asked him. I spent the next month in my room. Actually, most of my life was spent inside, which is evident by the pale ghost I was during my adolescence. My mother had a beautiful garden on the roof, but I never went up there. I spent most of my childhood hiding in the house. The walls between rooms are very thick here, but they are, in fact, quite hollow. When my grandfather built the house, he made sure that there would always be four ways out of every room." He noticed Hermione looking back at the house more and more with each word he spoke. And continued.  
  
"My father drank at night, or early in the morning, so my afternoons were safe. When I was ten, I overheard an argument between my parents through the hallway wall. My mother wanted me to go to Durmstrang; my father insisted on Hogwarts. My mother said some things father did not like. And he threw a glass vase at her. So I went to Hogwarts."  
  
He paused for a moment, and noticed Hermione's hands were shaking just slightly on the coffee cup he had given her. "When I came home from my sixth year at school, my mother was half blind. It was noted as an accident, but it's easy to figure out when an injury is caused by a spell.or a serious beating." He stopped and smiled almost wistfully, "My mother has never been an independent person. And father took advantage of that."  
  
"Draco, I must say your father is quite scary, and I only barely met him three times in my life."  
  
Draco looked at her face, etched with pity. "I never said I did not love him. I never wanted for anything in my life with him. He taught me many things, Hermione. But we all have our downsides, now don't we?"  
  
Hermione stared into her coffee for a moment. And then, she abruptly looked up. "Sorry. But your father, he's dead is he not? What happened there?"  
  
"The day after the second war ended, father was shipped to Azkaban. He spent two months alive in the prison. The month before he was convicted for the Dementor's Kiss, I went to visit him. He would never live a lifeless existence, and that's all it would give him, as he had no soul to begin with." Hermione quickly dropped her gaze, visibly shaken. "Yes, Hermione, I killed him. With a very nice curse, I may add. Killed him slowly, from the inside out. It was the best thing I've ever done."  
  
Draco fell silent, finished. He smiled at himself wistfully, remembering the killing, Hermione supposed. She could not look at him any longer, could not keep her eyes dry if she did. She averted her eyes to her coffee again, surprised to see how much her hands were shaking. She was afraid that if she held the cup much longer, she would spill it; yet her throat had gone dry, and she assumed it was her turn to tell her story.  
  
She took a drink of the coffee in her cup before setting it down. "Well, I guess now I give you the brief run-through of my story." Draco looked at her and blinked. Once.  
  
"When I left for Hogwarts, my mother cried. Every summer when I got back, my parents gave me the whole 'what are you going to do in life?' speech. And every time it was really a 'what Muggle things will you do with your life?' When I went to Hogwarts for seventh year, I talked with Harry about it. He and I chose to get an apartment, as his family did not want him- they never had. The week of Easter Break, we moved in to the two-bedroom apartment. Ron refused to share an apartment with us, though I still don't know why. I doubt I ever will.  
  
"The war went on, and during sometime Harry and I simply became more. It happened over time, nothing too rash. We spent three years together before he battled Voldemort. When Voldemort died, Harry.changed. He was suddenly thrown out of balance. He clung to our relationship for his life, but he clung too hard. I started being distant. And that's when he started using force to make me love him."  
  
".But somewhere inside me, I cannot be sure if I ever loved him in the first place." With those words her tears began to fall as a wave of unadulterated regret and loathing washed over her. She ran her hands through her hair, allowing her hands to hold her head up to finish her thought, "But he needed me, and I had no reason not to let him have me."  
  
Draco placed a hand on her forearm gently and looked into her eyes. "What do you want, Hermione?"  
  
She turned from his gaze, afraid of what she may trick herself into believing was there. "I want to leave here. I don't-don't know why you keep me here," she said drying her tears to replace them with determination.  
  
"I am not keeping you here. You can leave whenever you would like to." She looked at him for a single moment before getting from her chair and straightening her dress. Then with a flip of her skirt, she was gone, back inside.  
  
Draco stood up and looked out at the wet countryside. He saw Mrs. Jettersimin, his next door neighbor, let in a tanned man through her back door. Mr. Jettersimin was away for the week, and she was bedding a boy younger than he himself was. Typical.  
  
He picked up Hermione's cup and hurled it in the general direction of the Jettersimins' yard. It would land sadly short for on that side of the manor there was almost a hundred feet between their yards. But that did not bother Draco at all; better to stay somewhat civil with the other old wizarding families. Not as if they didn't hate him anyway, but no one expected otherwise from a Malfoy.  
  
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